


Two Fingers

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Awkwardness, Friends to Lovers, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk's two fingers linger and move on the back of his other hand, he's lost in thought and staring at his First Officer; and so begins the downfall of Spock's restraint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Jim did it, it was an accident. 

They had just come off of alpha shift and headed straight to the mess for dinner. Jim looked down at his replicated food with disdain. They were two months into their five year mission and Jim could hardly sleep or eat. Maybe it was an after effect of dying…

Anyway, he sat there with his right hand encircling his left, his neglected tray cooling off to the left of his arms. Absently he had looked over to Spock. The way the planes of his face rose and fell, the smooth surface of his features, the way you could see hints of green beneath the pale skin if he stood under bright lights.

Somewhere during this visual analysis Jim had taken his first two fingers and was rubbing them absently around the golden skin on the back of his left hand.

It was as if he could feel a heat emanating from Spock, like if he just strained hard enough he might be able to hear his first commander’s thoughts. 

He wondered what it would be like to look into his Spock's mind. Ambassador Spock's mind was wracked with grief and angst...it felt unbearable. And when he moved towards himself in old Spock's memories there was such a warmth. Like a golden light that could suffocate you if you drank it in too fast. Simply recalling that aspect of the meld was intoxicating.

What would Jim look like in his Spock's mind? What if fate decided to rip them from the path of their 'life defining' friendship? God...Jim couldn't even think of that. When he did he felt a gripping pain in his chest, the same pain he felt as he lay dying of radiation.

Spock's lips pulled him from that thought. The way they had parted slightly, revealing a hint of snow white teeth. He had seen Spock eat and talk and try fervently to dissuade him from a thousand courses of action...he wondered if they were soft. He wondered if his skin was soft. He wondered how their faces would fit together.

Fuck...why are you thinking this? He mentally reprimanded himself, biting part of his bottom lip. The pain that radiated from the soft pink flesh pulled him back to reality.

He noticed that Spock was shifting uncomfortably, a deep mossy green blooming beneath his sculpted cheek bones. Spock's eyes were betraying his stoic face. He looked...surprised...panicked maybe?

It was then that Jim realized he had been staring at Spock…for a long time. The commander's gaze went from his eyes to his hands, where two fingers were still gingerly rubbing absent-minded circles onto the back of his hand. He ceased their movement immediately and Spock dragged his eyes back up to Jim's. 

The captain gulped and snapped his gaze towards his now Delta Vega temperature food. He could feel heat burning in his cheeks, rising up his neck and nestling into his ears. His ears only turned red when he was really really...really... embarrassed.

He yanked the tray towards him and forced the replicated morsels into his mouth. He glanced around the mess hall and pretended that the food didn't make his stomach churn. He could still feel Spock’s gaze still drilling into him as if it were mining his insides for some precious metal.

The cafeteria was buzzing with life. Bones sat down to his right and started going on about something. Uhura appeared next to Spock who was not directly in front of Jim, but to the right a seat or two. 

The raging heat of embarrassment had begun to die down, but was being replaced with nausea. Jim hadn’t eaten this much in a while and in his attempt to appear “normal,” he had shoved an inordinate amount of food down his throat.

Bones looked over at Jim who was willing his dinner to stay in his stomach. “You alright Jim” You’re downright green?” 

He noticed the Vulcan’s grip tighten around his utensils, a look of something on his face…God, his stomach hurt…he couldn’t analyze Spock’s face right now. 

"Yeah," he lied. "I’m going to go," he said getting up and hastily retreating from the whirring mess hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk sets out on a little "experiment" to see just how his absent-minded hand play affects Spock. Apparently the answer is ... a lot.

Kirk tried to shrug off the mess hall incident. He kept busy with anything and everything, but he just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knows how important hands are to Vulcans and he hadn't really meant to be toying with his hands as he sat there, adjacent to Spock, wrapped in thought.

He had been thinking more about his hands since…the "incident." He chuckled to himself as he turned the word over in his mind. A smile hung on the corner of his lips and he questioned why this event seemed so…important?

Spock had left the bridge momentarily and Jim used the breathing room to allow his thoughts to travel back to that night less than a week ago. 

He thought of the conversations that led to that moment of reflection in the cafeteria. The way that seeing the food in front of him made his stomach turn into a knot. How he mentally moved away from eating…focusing on Spock…on their friendship, their relationship.

Jim gulped.

His heart did odd things when he used the word "Spock" and "relationship" in the same sentence. It sent a shot of adrenaline spiking through his chest. 

God…the way that Spock's checks and ears flushed that mossy green when Jim realized he was staring. The way Spock's big brown eyes widened in shock. He wanted to recreate that look on Spock's face so bad…

Ever since "the incident," (again he smiled) Spock had been keeping his distance. He seemed colder towards Jim and it was eating him alive. He wanted to joke and touch and…be closer dammit! Wild physical gestures and displays of affection were sewed into his personality. And he felt like he was being starved by being shut down by Spock.

The commander shrugged off his jokes and avoided being brushed by Jim's hand. He seemed perfectly cool and collected…all while Jim got to sit in this damn chair and completely unravel inside. 

Jim signed and his eyes traveled to his hands. He was once again rubbing them together absently. He didn't stop. He just let the sensitive pads of his fingers hum along the soft pink flesh. It was odd to just sit there and play with his hands, but he liked it. It was as if everything melted away and his mind focused on the new and odd sensations. 

He didn't even notice that Spock had returned to the bridge and stood in front of him. When he looked up at the object casting a shadow over his boots, his gaze was met with a set jaw, tightly drawn lips and those huge chocolate eyes.

Dammit! Jim hissed in his head as another wave of adrenaline poured through his body. This was ridiculous! And even more unsettling…a huge turn-on.

Questioning blue eyes swept over his first officer and after a moment, Jim's eyebrows rose. Spock was just standing there with a PADD in his hand…just standing there looking at him, the PADD he had been carrying hanging at his side. But upon seeing Jim's upturned eyebrows, his lips began to move.

"Captain I think you should take a look at the latest biological readings in regards to the fauna on the class B subterranean planet Eschar," and he extended the hand holding the glowing PADD. Jim reached out slowly, gauging Spock's reaction, and took the tablet. 

\----

It was hard to tell if Spock was acting weird sometimes…because, let's face it, he's weird all the time. 

Jim let a few days pass since "the bridge incident," he laughed aloud this time. This was getting ridiculous, and he loved it.

Anyway…a few days had gone by and he once again found himself sitting in front of (a little adjacent to) Spock at the mess hall. 

"Does something amuse you?" Spock asked with a hint of intrigue. Jim reigned in his dancing smile and shook his head slightly. "No," he replied. Spock let it drop.

His eyes quickly scanned his unsuspecting friend and Jim determined that an experiment would need to be done to determine the true effects his lazy hands had on his Vulcan.

He looked down at his food, already growing cold and Spock followed his gaze. "Aren't you going to eat your food?" Spock asked. Jim sighed, "you know, I just haven't been very hungry lately," he said pushing the tray away. "I think I'd rather spend this time talking to friends," his ocean eyes glinted and they swept over the Vulcan's features.

He brought his hands together in front of his chest. They lay lightly on the table, fingers barely touching skin. Spock never looked up, but he chewed slower.

"So how are you liking this five year mission so far?" he asked, surprised at the genuine inflection in his tone. "I find it satisfactory," was the quick and curt response.

Jim brought his right thumb to the side of his left index finger and moved it towards his fingertip slowly. 

"Satisfactory huh? Is that another way of saying boring?"

Spock struggled to will down whatever illogical feelings had begun to bubble up. "I do not find our work boring; no. But knowing you, I'm sure you wish we were seeing more 'action,'" he managed.

Jim was jealous of Spock's ability to control his face, to not let his physicality reveal his emotions. Currently he was struggling very hard not to display either a mischievous expression or one of lust. Despite his outward efforts, Jim's body flooded with adrenaline that shot like spikes through his stomach. It filled him with the same warmth that taking shots of bourbon did - it also had the same intoxicating effect.

Level your tone, he thought before proceeding.

He traced invisible patterns on his smooth skin, watching Spock watch him. "I think things have been exciting enough," he lied. "I'm sure everyone aboard this ship enjoys having some normalcy around here for once." 

Spock watched him utter the sentence and when his tongue hit "once," the Vulcan's eyes dropped to his pink human lips. It made him hard and he resisted the urge to shift in his seat. 

Now his hands were openly playing with one another as if they had minds of their own and just discovered each was not alone. 

Jim never really thought about hands too much, in the grand scheme of things. But it was as if his fingers were on fire, leaving trails of heat and desire everywhere they touched. It very nearly tickled and burned at the same time. He wondered what Spock's hands would feel like on him. How they would feel on his hands...his face...his...

Fuck, he was so fucked.

Who was he trying to torture here exactly? 

Suddenly he was hyper aware of his skin. How it pricked beneath Spock's gaze, how it tingled where his fingers touched it, how the fabric of his boxers felt suffocating and uncomfortable. 

Jim didn't know what to say next, the conversation seemed to have run a complete course. He looked over at his cold food and then at Spock's food. There was something purple and shiny looking on the Vulcan's plate and Kirk decided this was his "in."

"You know, on second thought," he heard himself say, "I think I might be hungry after all. Just not for this crap," he said breaking his hands apart and using his left to push the tray away further. He could almost feel a weighted sigh of relief from Spock.

In one fluid motion he picked up his fork and his arm was traveling towards Spock's hand, towards his food. "I would like to try this stuff though," he said reaching for the mass of eggplant colored food. 

In the process of this absurd attempt to…god, I don't even know…Jim purposely let the bottom side of his right hand brush against Spock's. He had discovered that the side of his pinky held fantastic nerve endings and it was the perfect way to "accidentally" touch Spock.

What he didn't expect was the rearing jolt that bolted through his body and went straight to his cock. Shit, he barely touched the man and it was like his skin was rejoicing. His mind chanted "more contact," and his heart flew wildly against his ribcage.

Unfortunately, he had gotten lost in the sensation and let his hand "brush" against Spock's for too long. Finally his fork made it's way into the purple stuff but he stopped abruptly upon seeing Spock's solid face. 

He was used to seeing Spock's 'annoyed' face, but this was different. He looked angry. 

In an instant Spock was on his feet. "My apologies Captain, but I must retire for the evening," he said in his usual even tone. "Goodnight," and in a snap he was gone. 

Jim extracted his fork from the foreign mass of food and let out a shocked and relieved huff of breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. His body ached with want, his mind scrambled to decode the situation, and his stomach was a sailor's knot.

He messed with Spock, Spock knew it, Spock was mad, Jim was screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, so maybe Jim had too much fun fucking with Spock. Shit…why'd he have to think that word? Fucking. It immediately elicited a thousand filthy thoughts involving himself and his science officer.

It's not like Jim hadn't considered Spock like this before but…he was finding it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about Spock like this. And what he felt when they touched…shit. Jim had closed his eyes and let a heavy breath out as he recalled the sensation.

"Captain, are you alright?" Spock's voice rocked him back to reality. He gulped and looked up at the Vulcan. He had a neglected chess set in front of him and the rec room was empty. 

He came here for some clarity, for some alone time, and here was Spock. But if his expression was anything to go by, he didn't want to be here either. 

It had been approximately three days since their "awkward" encounter, but in the edges of Spock's demeanor, Kirk could still feel a sort of…anger. 

He hadn't answered Spock yet, and the man in science blues gave him the "lifted eyebrow." Jim's mind scrambled for coherency. "Yeah…yes, I'm fine. What is it?" he knew Spock had to be here out of business, since he had been avoiding Jim for the last three days. 

"Your signature is required to release the scientific findings…" "Yeah…" Jim said, cutting Spock off because he already knew the answer. He lifted his hand as Spock brought his own PADD towards the captain.

Those slender, strong fingers were a thing of beauty. They had just the quietest hush of green beneath the flesh, that ran in valleys between veiny mountains. He knew Vulcan's hands were super sensitive, and just then he imagined those fingers in his mouth. 

He looked up. Spock's eyebrows were now drawn down and together. Confusion? Annoyance? Concern?

Spock was almost caught breathless at the sight of Jim's eyes. They were blown wide, the dark pupils expanding like a black hole that was swallowing the entirety of his ocean blue irises. There was such a look of lust and desperation that Spock began to let go of his previous anger.

"Clearly you are not alright captain," Spock offered. "Perhaps you should visit Dr. McCoy."

Jim wanted to project that disarming smile he was famous for, but couldn't bring himself to do it. "Nah Spock, I'm fine," he said, finally reaching out and taking the PADD.

Maybe Jim hadn't been just cruelly teasing me before, Spock thought to himself. Maybe he actually wishes… 

Jim extended the signed PADD back to Spock. The blonde shifted almost imperceptibly, groaning mentally at how badly he wanted those hands on his face, in his hair, along his body. His arousal had to be so palpable that it was past borderline embarrassing.

He had spent the last three days NOT thinking about Spock, casually and coolly cruising around him. But with him standing right here…looking so…Spock-like and hot and ridiculous…Jim was coming undone from the very thing he had started.

How had he managed to fall so fast into some imaginary relationship that he had started in his head? It felt so real. Maybe because he wanted it so bad.

"I…uh…I'm glad you're here," Jim said as Spock took back his PADD. "Because I wanted to talk to you," okay, that was a flat out lie. Jim had dreaded talking to Spock about any of this. He wanted to do what he always did with things too emotionally wrecking to handle; bury it.

So why were his lips betraying him?

"The other day…I didn't mean to make you angry," Jim said, his eyes downcast.

"I believe I've already reached that conclusion," Spock replied. Jim looked up in surprise, a glimmer of hopefulness taking a relieved breath behind his expression. "Anyway…I'm sorry," he finished. 

"Sorry for what exactly?" Spock inquired. It was logical to let the conversation go, to accept the apology and move on, but something here fascinated him. The way his excitement piqued when Jim looked at him full of lust, was something he couldn't ignore. 

Jim wasn't prepared for further questions. His lust was suffocating his logic. What should he say?

"Sorry for…upsetting you…" he settled on, still looking up at Spock who stood before him. Even now, being serious, he still felt insanely aroused. He longed for a touch, his eyes betraying his facade as they swept down Spock's body, over his hands.

It was late, they should go.

Jim stood, leaving barely two inches between him and his first officer. Spock moved back. Jim looked disappointed. So Spock moved forward to where he had first stood. They were so close.

"Spock," Jim said almost breathlessly, he lifted his right hand tentatively and slowly reached for Spock's free hand. He met the Vulcan's unmoving gaze, he gave the slightest nod of approval.

Spock expected Jim to use his hand to fully grasp the Vulcan's. He was not prepared for Jim extending only two fingers and slipping them into the sensitive pads of his first two fingers.

God Spock…fuck…wanted to touch you forever…I want to touch you always…your fingers are so cool to the touch…so why do they feel like fire? 

Jim's thoughts pushed him over like a tidal wave. They were so intense and numerous and Spock could hardly focus on the gravity of their content because his fingers felt like buzzing heat. Where their fingers made contact created such an unbearable sensation. It was addicting and burning and soothing all at the same time.

I want you…I need more…fuck…

Then nothing.

Spock broke their contact, taking a step back.

He felt himself losing control, becoming overwhelmed, and it frightened him on many levels. "Jim…" Spock said softly, staring at the chest wearing the golden shirt.

"Yes?" Just the way Jim said the word was so…sensual. It dripped of lust and sex and want. It sounded sleepy and perplexed like a human just awoken from sleep.

"Do you know what you just did?"

"I kissed you?"

Spock seemed surprised. A lovely green flush rising to his cheeks. Before he could get a chance to answer Jim spoke again. "Spock…can I do something? With your hand?" 

Spock seemed uncertain…Jim thought that if he were human he'd look scared. "We're in a public place and…" he was about to say "not in a committed relationship," but was glad that Jim said something instead, and the doors closed and locked. It was late and the odds of anyone wandering in here were slim as it were. 

The Vulcan looked at Jim expectantly, his face beginning to belie his calm mask. 

Jim was standing so close, his hot breath grazing over his cool skin. He reached out and took Spock's hand by the wrist…which was surprising. He brought the alien hand up to his face, to his lips. 

Jim's soft pink lips grazed his finger tips in gentle kisses and his brain went quiet. Which is saying a lot for a Vulcan.

His breathing increased, the room seemed smaller somehow, the space between them alight with anticipation and desire. Jim visually checked in with Spock, who had mentally checked out. Spock couldn't help a moan as Jim's tongue darted out and tasted his fingers like they were a rich candy. 

He swirled his tongue around the digits lightly, and then pressed his tongue flat against the finger prints. Spock was hard, he desired friction, and pushed up against Jim; who staggered back and into the nearest wall. 

Fuck…he's hard…against me, he's up against me…I'm going to cum in my pants like I'm 15….

Jim's torrent of thoughts only threw fuel on the fire of Spock's arousal. 

Spock had never been sexually attracted to another male before, but Jim seemed to awaken many things in him that he had yet to experience. And right now, he found the interested penis straining to meet his, incredibly arousing. 

Jim was rutting against him now, his first two fingers disappearing into Jim's mouth. All of Jim's thoughts were a scrambled mess of swear words and "more," and "harder," and "oh god," repeated over and again.

Spock's weight was crushing. Either he didn't realize it or he was too wrapped up in Jim's ministrations to care. It was hard to breathe, but Kirk didn't care. He kept blowing Spock's hand, the PADD long forgotten by Spock's other hand which was now crushingly planted on his hip.

Spock was coming undone in front of him, bucking into his body, moaning with his eyes open, drilling holes into Jim.

I'm coming… Jim said in his mind, the Vulcan's once cold hand still disappearing in and out of his mouth and around his tongue. I know…Spock thought back. Jim's eyes snapped to attention, it was the first time he'd ever heard someone in his mind but he didn't have time to process it as his orgasm hit hard. Spock's hips crushed into him, his forehead pressed up against his own. 

Spock still had his mental shields up when he said "I know," he didn't understand what…was happening. But there was this force between them, this light and heat and the friction of their bodies was painful and blissful…a whole host of contradictions…just like their relationship. 

A strangled noise that Spock didn't even recognize came out of his throat as his hips snapped and rocked and milked his orgasm. Finally he stopped moving, the sweat of Jim's forehead sticking to his bangs.

He looked at Jim…out of breathe, red plump lips, a smirk of satisfaction smeared across his face. He searched for words but found none. Instead he radiated gratitude, satisfaction, desire, warmth, and affection. He threw these emotions at Jim through their touch and felt Jim send it right back.


End file.
